Frozen
by SailorCheesy
Summary: Alfred Jones had waited anxiously for this day ever since his parents died. Maybe he would meet the one! Maybe he would make friends! Maybe his brother would reveal that he had powers and run away, forcing Alfred to go on an adventure with some crank British guy and a weird Flying Bunny! Wait... what! (Frozen: Hetalia version! US/UK, Ame/Pru, mild language.)


_"Nothing burns like the cold." _  
_― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones_

* * *

**Prologue.**

"Come on, Alfie, it's time to go to bed!" Matthew says, gripping his younger brother's chubby hand tightly in his.

"But you said we could play!" Alfred protests, bending over and picking his tiny crown off the floor. He places it on his head, and Matthew adjusts it with a gentle smile.

"We just did! Momma and Papa said one more game, remember? You don't want them to get mad at me, do you?" Matthew asks, violet eyes gentle and calm, staring down at his younger brother.

"N-No..." Alfred sighs, looking down at his yellow shoes.

"C'mere, you!" Matthew exclaims, hands closing around the younger's waist. He hoists the giggling blonde onto his shoulders, laughing as well as he carefully walks down the hall.

Teetering on his slightly larger than usual feet, Matthew's pale hand closes around the bright red doorknob to his and Alfred's shared bedroom. His younger brother grips his white hair tightly in his chubby hands, giggling until Matthew clears his throat, letting him know that he should let go. After Alfred releases him, Matthew dips the top half of his body forward, and Alfred tumbles, laughing loudly, onto his king-size mattress.

"Okay, Alfie, let's get you ready for bed!" Matthew says, tumbling over to Alfred's dresser in a fit of giggles. He wrenches open the bottom drawer and fishes around, eventually finding a pair of blue pajama bottoms with shark patterns on it and a long-sleeved yellow pajama top with raccoons on it. In his mind, they matched perfectly and he was sure that if he asked someone else, they would agree. "Arms up!" He orders, dashing back to the bed where Alfred was waiting patiently.

The five-year old boy does so with a grin, displaying his missing front teeth in the process. Matthew plucks the golden crown off of his head, setting it gently down on the dresser beside him and then grabbing Alfred's shirt by the sleeves. With a heave, he pulls the t-shirt off and then quickly replaces it with the raccoon shirt. Afterwords, he kneels and unties Alfred's shoes, pulling them off gently. When removing the child's pair of small blue jeans, he makes sure to leave the socks, knowing that Alfred liked to sleep in them. Pulling the shark pants onto Alfred's chubby legs, he grins.

"Wow! You pick out great pajamas!" Alfred says happily, leaping off of his bed and clumsily rushing over to Matthew's dresser.

With a little effort, he pulls the third drawer from the top open, leaning over and staring intently at all of the pajama pants and shirts. After some serious contemplating, he turns around and displays his choices to his older brother, pride shining in his bright blue eyes. A pair of maple leaf silky pajama pants hang from one hand, and an oversized t-shirt patterened with fluffy sheep dangles from the other.

"Good job!" Matthew says, pleased by his brother's perfect fashion sense. He strips down and then pulls on his pajamas, Alfred tugging at the clothes the entire way, thinking he was helping.

When he's finished, the Canadian boy scoops Alfred up into his arms and carries him to his bed, dropping him down onto it with a grin.

"Mattieeeee, tuck me in!" Alfred whines, lifting the covers up and wiggling underneath them.

Laughing, the seven-year old obeys, wrapping the covers securely around his brother's body and then kissing his forehead. "Goodnight, Alfie!"

"'Night, Mattie! I love you!"

"I love you too." Matthew says happily, walking over to his bed and climbing under the covers. As soon as his head hits his fluffy white pillow and his arm is around his stuffed polar bear, he is alseep.

* * *

"Mattieeeeeee!" Alfred whispers, flopping on top of his brother's still figure. "Mattie, wake up!"

The older groans, "Go back to sleep, Alfie..." He mumbles, voice slurred.

"No! C'mon Mattie, let's _play!" _Alfred says, this time a little louder. He grabs his brother's cheeks, pulling at them.

"Al, please, just go to bed." Matthew says, opening his violet eyes. His eyelids weigh down, almost closing as he shoves Alfred off of him and onto the floor. There's a thud, like a note of finality, and Matthew closes his eyes.

On the floor, Alfred pouts, arms crossed over his chest. He shoots up, an idea hitting him full-force. "Wanna build a snowman?" He asks mischeviously.

Matthew's eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his chubby face. He rips the Canadian flag covers off of his body and drops siently onto the floor. Flashing his little brother a wide grin, he scoops Alfred up and places him atop his shoulders.

Alfred giggles, then watches from above as his brother grabs two pillows and pushes open their bedroom door. Checking both ways for gaurds, Matthew hurries down the hall and past two sleeping men in uniform. Alfred tugs at his hair in anticipation, letting out a whoop of laughter when they reach the grand staircase.

"Ready?" Matthew asks, raising one hand.

"Yeah!" Alfred exclaims, bright blue eyes wide and cheeks puffed out and pink in excitement.

Matthew smiles, taking a deep breath.

There's a pulse of blue light in the center of his palm, then another, and another. A sudden flurry of snow appears from his palm, and he jerks his hand out in the direction of the staircase almost carelessley. Immediately, a sheet of solid, glittering blue ice covers it, making the staircase into a smooth slide. He throws his hand up into the air, palm open and faced towards the ceiling. A spark of blue light hits the brick ceiling, and then soft, white snow drifts down slowly.

"Okay, here we go!" Matthew says, bending down and allowing Alfred to climb off of his shoulders. He grabs a pillow and plops down on it at the edge of the staircase. Alfred plops down on top of his lap, and Matthew gives them the final shove.

Alfred yells in delight, whereas Matthew keeps himself focused on the end of the ice-slide, palm out towards the floor. With a grin, he shoots snow at his target, creating a soft snow bank for him and Alfred to crash into without being harmed. Afterwords, his arms close around his little brother's waist, keeping him secure and close, as they zip down the staircase and straight into the snow.

"YAY!" Alfred yells in delight as the crash into the powdery white snow.

Matthew smiles lightly, swirling his index finger and lifting Alfred up in a wind-tunnel of snow. After gently setting him down, he pulls Alfred to the center of the large room. "Ready?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

Alfred bounces from one foot to the other, nodding vigorously.

Matthew throws his hand up into the air, watching with glee as sparks of blue light shoot from his palm, ricocheting off the ceiling and raining down as snowflakes. While Alfred's distracted, Matthew stomps, watching the palace floor turn to ice beneath their small feet with satisfaction. Alfred squeals, immediately beginning to slide around on the ice. Matthew begins to make ramps and slides for the two, constructing an ice wonderland all for Alfred.

Alfred jumps onto one of the ramps, standing at the edge. Matthew quickly makes another, slightly higher ramp, and Alfred hops onto it. Matthew makes another, this one even higher. Alfred jumps for it. Then, Alfred jumps again, without waiting for the mountain. Matthew constructs a taller one to cushing Alfred's fall, becoming slightly panicked now.

"Alfie!" He cries as the boy jumps again, shooting another mound of snow for Alfred.

"Higher, higher!" Alfred cries in delight, leaping higher than he had before.

The older Canadian boy takes a shaky step back to make a safer mountain. Alfred let's out a screech as his brother falls backward, dropping against the hard ice.

"ALFRED!" Matthew yells, desperately firing his magic towards the falling younger boy. For a second, he almost thought it was going to work, but then—Alfred ducks out of fear at the shard coing towards him, eyes widening. Instead of hitting below his feet, it slams into his head.

Matthew screams out as Alfred slams into the snowy ground, gasping as chunk of Alfred's golden blonde hair turns bright white, stading out like a gem in a pile of grey rocks. Stumbling over to the younger, Matthew yells for his parents as loud as possible, picking his little brother's limp body up in his arms. His body shakes, and the Canadian's violet eyes are filled with icy tears.

"Matthew! Alfred!" A French-accented voice yelps as he runs into the room, quickly followed by a taller American female. Both are in their pajamas and barefoot, but they pay no mind as they rush over and kneel before their sons.

"I-It was an accident! W-We were j-just playing and th-then Alfie j-jumped and I c-couldn't catch him in t-time!"

"He's ice cold," Amelia, Matthew and Alfred's mother, breathes, eyes widening.

The king, Francis, jumps up. "I know what to do." He says, leaping up and sprinting back into their bedroom.

"Matthew, honey, get your shoes and some blankets." Amelia says gently, kissing her older son's forehead in reassurance.

Matthew nods, rushing off in the opposite direction of his father. Amelia lifts Alfred up, cradling him gently and kissing him over and over, trying to wake him up.

Alfred breathes scarcely and shallowly. His cheeks are flushed red and fingertips purple. The last thing he hears is Matthew rushing back into the room, Francis yelling something, and his mother's gentle voice, before he black out.

* * *

The young prince snaps awake the next day with a jolt, hearing loud noises. Alert, he twists out of his covers and looks around. Various castle workers were lifting all of his big brother's things from the room and carrying them out.

"Hey, whatcha doin' with Mattie's stuff?!" Alfred cries, rosy cheeks puffing outward in anger. "Give 'im his bed back!" He yells.

Matthew walks in a moment later, freezing when he sees Alfred awake.

"Mattie! Why are they taking your stuff away?! Y-You're not going somewhere, are you?!" The American boy rushes forward, throwing his arms around Matthew's legs and blinking up at him worriedly.

"I'm moving to a new room is all, Alfie. I need more space."

"I-Is it 'cause I brothered you when you were tryin' to sleep?! 'Cause I can stop!"

"No, that's not why. Momma and Papa just think that I'm too old to sleep in here with you, and that you need to get used to sleeping by yourself more often." Matthew looks away as he says it, hot tears burning down across his ice-cold cheeks.

"B-But Mattie, I don't want you to go!" Alfred was sniffling now, eyes wide and pleading. "Tell Momma and Papa that you gotta stay with me!"

"I can't... I'm sorry, Alfie..." Matthew whispers, hugging his little brother and running his gloved hands through Alfred's hair.

"But... Mattie... Pwease, stay!"

Matthew sets him down slowly, reluctantly, and shakes his head. "I gotta go now. Y-You'll see me all the time still, okay?"

"O-okay..." Alfred whimpers, sitting down on the floor of his half-empty bedroom and beginning to cry.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland lay awake the next morning, staring at the straw ceiling of his small, fragile cabin. Glittering green eyes still wide from what he had witnessed the night before, the greenn-eyed boy rethinks the events of the previous night.

_He had been sledding, going slowly, letting his reindeer, Ollie, pull him along after the rest of the men who were getting ice to sell. The two had fallen behind a bit, but Arthur didn't mind, as he liked to observe the beautiful lush landscape. Then, suddenly, Ollie had jerked to the left, heaving Arthur and his sled out of the way just as two horses raced by a top speed, whoosing past them with a gust of wind. A trail of solid, glittering ice is left in their place, a pathway. _

_"Ollie! Follow the ice!" Arhur urges, letting his reindeer turn the sled around and tug him down the path of ice. Eventually, he arrived at the end of the trail, where the king, queen, and their two sons were. One son—the youngest, with the pretty blue eyes that Arthur had seen once when he was out getting carrots for Ollie—was unconsious in his mother's arms. The queen was kneeling upon the ground, blue eyes that were nearly identical to the youngest prince's, widened. _

_Arthur noticed a small strip of white hair running through the young prince's hair and wondered curiously what could have done that._

_"Please, help us!" The king suddenly calls out, as if to the surrounding woods, or to Arthur himself. _

_Arthur furrows his brows tightly together, staring at all the large rocks surrounding the royal family. There were practically question marks floating around his head, and he's about to turn away from these crazy people when there's a rumbling. It grows louder and louder, pulsing in Arthur's eardrums as he whips around. _

_The rocks. They were moving, rotating, vibrating. _

_Pop!_

_Arhur let's out a small cry of surprise, quickly covering his mouth with his small hand and ducking down behind a rock... Only to have it grab him by the ear and pull him back up. _

_"Hey! Don't you want to watch?" One of the 'rocks' exclaims, now looking like a short, tiny person. It was a female, Arthur determined after close inspection, or at least 'she' looked like one. He didn't even know if these things had genders to begin with, or how you could determine the gender of one if they did. _

_Said rock-creature-girl had grey eyes, grey skin, and grey hair. There were sevearl black freckles sprinkled across her puffy cheeks, and she smiles happily at Arthur, revealing wide rows of shiny white teeth. _

_Arthur nods wordlessley, eyes wide in surprise. _

_"I'll keep you two; you're cute!" She exclaims, then turns away to watch the royal family again. _

_An older-looking rock-creature had approached the kneeling queen and her son, and was now chanting something with his head pressed to the younger prince's forehead. A wisp of blue light made it's way into the sky, it's origin Alfred's head. The elder creature snatches it back in his hand, seemingly rolling the light into a ball. He whispers furiously into his hands before pressing them back to the prince's forehead, watching the light retract back into Alfred's skull._

_"The head is easy to change," he states, voice deep and raspy, "but don't worry, I left the fun." _

_"But... Alfie won't know I have powers?"_

_"It's for the best." King Francis assures the elder prince, patting his head. "It's just until you get them under control."_

Arthur wonders what he had witnessed, slightly worried about what might happen if he were to inform anyone else of what he had seen. Would he be in trouble? Would anyone even believe him? It was starnge to think about. He had seen the royal family at one of their most velunerable times, and they had no idea.

But, even more stange than that, he was living with a family of walking, talking rocks. The rock-lady had told him yesterday that she was, in fact, no lady, but a man, and that the rock-people who looked like men were the ladies. Arthur was confused by this, but decided to go with it. They had bathed him and Ollie, fed them, and then taken them in with the promise to take care of the orphane child and reindeer. And as young as Arthur was, he knew that an opportunity like this didn't come around often.

He stares up at the ceiling for a few more moments, blinking, and then decides to stand. He nudges Ollie with his right foot, letting the reindeer slowly wake up befoe opening the door to the room that had been declared his and looking around.

Most of his new family was already up and bustling around the kitchen, cooking what appeared to be eggs and bacon. The British nine-year-old hesitantly walks into the kitchen, Ollie trotting happily behind him.

"G-Good morning," he says, standing with his hands awkwardly clasped together in front of his bedroom door.

"Oh! Good morning, sweetie! You hungry?" The man who had decided to 'keep' Arthur last night exclaims, turning to face him with a bright smile.

"A-A little." Arthur replies shyly.

"Aw, how cute!" One of the rock-girls exclaims, taking his hands and heaving him into a chair.

Arthur sits still at the table, head down. A plate of scrambled eggs slides in front of him along with a fork, and he looks up, blinking. He smiles garetfully at the man, whose name is Mint, then looks around at all of the eager faces watching him. He picks up the fork, scooping some of the eggs up and putting them in his mouth. He nods after a moment, smiling and swallowing.

"It's good," he says in a soft voice.

A loud cheering erupts from the room, and Arthur knows he's going to like it here.

* * *

Alfred was outside Matthew's door.

"Mattie?" He asks, pushing himself onto his tiptoes and pressing his lips to the keyhole of Matthew's door. "Do you wanna build a snowman?" He asks, giggling. "It doesn't have to be a snowman!"

"Go away, Al!" Matthew yells from the other side of the door.

Alfred's eyes go wide. He drops onto his flat-feet, putting a hand to the ice-cold door, looking down at the floor. "Mattie..." He whispers, feeling dissappointed and dejected. He drags himself down the hall and away from the door to go play by himself. Again.

* * *

Alfred, eleven, slides in his socks and grabs Matthew's doorknob to stop himself from sliding away.

"Hey, Matt!" He calls, grinning from ear-to ear and knocking furiously on the door.

There's no response. Alfred presses his ear to the freezing door. He could hear his brother shifting from inside. "C'mon, bro! It's snowing outside! Let's build a snowman!"

Still, he recieves no response.

"Matt, I know you're in there! C'mon, answer me! Look, we don't have to build a snowman! We can go ice-skating, or play hockey, or baseball! Hey, we could even stay inside! We could ride bikes down the hall, we could bake something! We could paint, or—"

"Go away, Al! I don't want to play!" Matthew suddenly yells. His voice is full of pain.

"But... Matt, I never see you anymore! It's like you're not even in the house! You're not even there for dinner most of the time!"

"I said no! Go away!" Matthew yells.

He presses his ear to the door and waits until the telltale sound of Alfred trudging to his room sounds, and then walking over to his bedroom window. He sighs, looking outside his window at the snow-covered wonderland that his parent's kindgom was, feeling immensely jealous of the happy kids playing outside. He stares out until his brother appears among the children, waving and beginning to skate across the frozen lake with them.

Alfred looks up at Matthew's window, blinking, and the Candian turns away. He jerks his blue curtains shut, then dropping onto his bed.

The thirteen-year-old buries his face into his plush pillow and begins to cry.

* * *

Prince Alfred envelops his parents in a warm hug, kissing them both and waving good-bye as they board a large ship. It was light out, the sun shining down upon the happy town. Kids plucked flowers from the ground in the mid-afternoon light, many approaching the prince and handing them to him.

"Thank you," Alfred says with a large grin, accepting his sixth small bouquet of dandelions from a young girl. "They're beautiful." He looks up at his brother's open window, smiling.

And for the first time in a long time, his brother doesn't turn away. He smiles at Alfred, waving a pale hand at Alfred.

The American's eyes go wide and he waves back enthusiastically.

"Look, everyone! It's Prince Matthew!" He says, poiting at the window.

Several kids and adults surround Alfred, staring up at the window.

"Woaaaah!" Kids say in awe, "I've never seen him before!"

"It's been so long!" Another adult exclaims.

"My, look how he's grown!"

"He's so cute! Mama, can I marry him?"

Matthew turns bright red and waves good-bye slowly.

Alfred's smile falters and falls, and he watches with hurt eyes as those old blue curtains shut as they always did, leaving him feeling more alone than ever despite the crowd around him.

* * *

"Matt... Please... Come out." Alfred whispers. He's leaning against the door, on the floor, hands slowly wiping underneath his eyes to rid himself of the tears. "Please, Matt, I know you're in there... I... Everyone's wondering where you've been..." He drops his head against the door. "They're telling me to have courage and I'm really, really trying," Alfred's voice cracks as he says it, "I'm right here for you, Mattie... Just let me in..."

Matthew puts his hand to the door, dropping his head to his knees. His body shakes with silent sobs, and he tries his absolute best to make his hiccuping as silent as possible. His only protectors, the only to people he had interacted with on a daily basis, were gone. Dead. Lost at sea, in a ship that was gone, smashed, non-existent. Matthew had never minded the cold until today. He had never shivered, never wanted to be held and warmed up.

But now... He did. He wanted to throw the door open, envelop his brother and hold him tightly. He wanted to sob his eyes out into Alfred's shoulder, hold him so tight the American could barely breathe. And he wanted Alfred to hold him back. He wanted his little brother to cry with him, and they could mourn together and then take care of each other like they used to, back so long ago. How desperately Matthew longed for companionship in this moment, how horribly heartbroken he felt to know that he was too dangerous to even touch his little brother without the possibility of freezing him.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" Alfred chokes out dryly, breaking into renewed sobs. He reaches for the doorknob, but it's locked, as always. "Mattie, please... I'm sorry... I don't know what I did, but I want to fix it... Please, we're all we've got now. It's just you and me."

Matthew scoots away from the door, biting back a sob. He didn't want it to just be him. He didn't want Alfred to be sobbing outside his bedroom door right now. He didn't want to know that he couldn't comfort his little brother like he longed to.

Matthew hated himself. He was a monster. A horrible, horrible monster who had pushed the person he loved most—his little brother—away. He was dangerous, a danger to everyone around him, especially Alfred, because of the strong feelings had for him. The incontainable emotions made his powers swell up, impossible to control, and Alfred was the only one who could do it to him. Not even his parents could render him completely incapable of taking at least some control of his powers.

But with Alfred, it was different. Alfred made his powers wash over him, wave after wave, to the point where it was impossible to suppress if he stayed with the younger too long. And the more time he spent away from Alfred, trying to keep him safe, the more powerful the waves knocked against him when he did see Alfred.

"Matt, please. I need you." Alfred says, banging his fist against the door. "I'm tired of the silence!" He yells, banging angrily upon the door, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. "Matt! Open up! Let me in! Please! I really, really need you! I-I can't do this alone!"

"I'm sorry," Matthew whispers, making sure it was quiet enough that Alfred wouldn't notice. "I love you, Al."

"MATT! I said come out! Come ON! Just—Just for a few minutes! I know you can hear me!" Alfred pouns harder and harder against the door, throwing his fists to the wood with desperation. "You—You used to love me so much! Why don't you anymore?! And why do I still love you?! Why are you doing this to me?!"

Matthew can't stand it anymore, and he leaps to his feet, kicking the door back. "SHUT UP!" He screams.

Alfred yelps, and there's a thump. Matthew knows his brother must have fallen out of surprise and immediately regrets what he had done.

"Mattie..." Alfred whispers, so faintly that Matthew has to press his ear to the door to hear it.

"What?" He whispers back with as much venom as possible. He had to be cruel, otheriwse he would hurt Alfred. If he pushed him away, Alfred wouldn't get hurt. It was the only way Matthew could think of to protect his beloved little brother.

"Don't you love me anymore?" Alfred asks from outside, voice hurt.

Matthew freezes. He stands rigid for a long moment before turning away from the door and starting towards the opposite end of his bedroom.

There's shuffling, silent footsteps, and then Alfred is off down the hallway, into his own bedroom with the door slamming so loudly behind him that a vase on a shelf flies off and smashes to the ground.

And for the next month, Matthew cannot sleep at all.


End file.
